Your body has become inspiration enough,
like gathering together a private map
of my world,
transfixed in a moment,
coming and going; arriving and departing,
at times,
when I see you, in dream.
How do you do it,
keeping yourself present while absent?
The very air you breathe,
when we're breathing together,
pulls me closer, inward and outward
it goes;
and, we lie, spread out,
in discovery;
in intimate knowledge
of our faithfulness
in the known
contours we share.
~x~William ~copyright 11/10/2009.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Advice to the Ancients [Notebook]
Sometimes,
There are half-measures
That shine.
Build on this
When words
Call to you.
Expand from these small things,
Because, life awaits.
Every word
May be important
In their place.
~x~William.
There are half-measures
That shine.
Build on this
When words
Call to you.
Expand from these small things,
Because, life awaits.
Every word
May be important
In their place.
~x~William.
Monday, October 5, 2009
FYI :
Today was a pretty special day for me:
I've completed a 2nd book of poetry, a companion volume to "The Wind Shall Hear my Words..." [entitled: "...and, The Stars will speak them."]. The book includes some of the poems that have been posted here, as well as some that have gone unpublished.
I hope to send the finished manuscript to the publisher on October 9th, 2009.
As I always say, "onward & upward."
I've completed a 2nd book of poetry, a companion volume to "The Wind Shall Hear my Words..." [entitled: "...and, The Stars will speak them."]. The book includes some of the poems that have been posted here, as well as some that have gone unpublished.
I hope to send the finished manuscript to the publisher on October 9th, 2009.
As I always say, "onward & upward."
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Clouds
In the other room,
a piano, softly, plays.
**
I'm watching the clouds now;
shifting shapes,
slowly,
drifting along,
with my thoughts...
...Your fingers, on the keys,
brush the elements:
a body of motion,
you've seemed.
to me.
**
As clement,
is this beauty,
a touch, pierces the heart.
The softness of skin, lingers,
in each subtle touch
of melody...
...and, You are here,..
..but not.
**
I'll open up myself,
to Nature,
and, Time's
inclement moments.
**
We'll embrace the clouds
this evening;
sharing, each stroke;
each, swept hands, brush.
**
So,
as I linger here,
half-way to you
and the skies blessings;
Like some love-struck field-hand,
The light, at least, for now, my Love,
has settled
behind
the Clouds.
`x~William ~ copyright 10/04/09.
[Ps: this poem has been published in another venue]
a piano, softly, plays.
**
I'm watching the clouds now;
shifting shapes,
slowly,
drifting along,
with my thoughts...
...Your fingers, on the keys,
brush the elements:
a body of motion,
you've seemed.
to me.
**
As clement,
is this beauty,
a touch, pierces the heart.
The softness of skin, lingers,
in each subtle touch
of melody...
...and, You are here,..
..but not.
**
I'll open up myself,
to Nature,
and, Time's
inclement moments.
**
We'll embrace the clouds
this evening;
sharing, each stroke;
each, swept hands, brush.
**
So,
as I linger here,
half-way to you
and the skies blessings;
Like some love-struck field-hand,
The light, at least, for now, my Love,
has settled
behind
the Clouds.
`x~William ~ copyright 10/04/09.
[Ps: this poem has been published in another venue]
Sunday, September 27, 2009
A Monumental Request
I've been asked to write
about happiness:
Smiley faces, and babbling brooks;
Or, the pursuit of happy books--
Evidence of timely things, stacked upon the shelves
And,
Giving the goose to childish things.
Sometimes, the glee is tamped-down,
And there aren't any cheerful moments.
It is the nature of life, they say, to be as rollicking as a roller-
Coaster;
As large in its emotions as an ocean of tears.
Happy is as happy goes.
If you're smiling now, dear ones,
I've hit the mark.
Today, I've chosen to lean toward your request.
I've chosen to smile
On a rainy day.
`x~William ~copyright~ 09/27/09.
about happiness:
Smiley faces, and babbling brooks;
Or, the pursuit of happy books--
Evidence of timely things, stacked upon the shelves
And,
Giving the goose to childish things.
Sometimes, the glee is tamped-down,
And there aren't any cheerful moments.
It is the nature of life, they say, to be as rollicking as a roller-
Coaster;
As large in its emotions as an ocean of tears.
Happy is as happy goes.
If you're smiling now, dear ones,
I've hit the mark.
Today, I've chosen to lean toward your request.
I've chosen to smile
On a rainy day.
`x~William ~copyright~ 09/27/09.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
....Sexy One.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Untitled [Notebook]:
I'll begin with the word, "untitled"; its transparency, and its invisibility,
Heavy with whatever meaning
You'll will it to be. The world will enter here,
Just as unknown, as long as we let it be.
I want to treat each word as a jumper upon a trampoline;
Reaching for the heights, the stars. Keep on, in your den,
Because even the untitled find their place,
Never untouchable,
In their riches
Always striving toward sensibility
As close as my doorstep,
And, a walk outside.
Believe, I cried,
To a world
Too loud to hear.
Even those things untitled,
Are given a place,
And, the choices we make,
Our own.
Never fear,...
...She said. Walk all those roads,
And,
Settle your sights upon home.
`x~William ~ copyright 09/23/09
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Where's William??????????????????????:
[music for "staycation"]
I'm taking a short break in blogging & being online.
See you all, once again, in two weeks.
I need a staycation*, badly.
`x~William. 09/1109.
* A vacation, close to home & inexpensive.
I'm taking a short break in blogging & being online.
See you all, once again, in two weeks.
I need a staycation*, badly.
`x~William. 09/1109.
* A vacation, close to home & inexpensive.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Five, Six, Seven, Eight, and Nine
Somewhere,
between
Katrina and now
we had
lost you.
The remnants still linger,
and time doesn't stand still;
even though, we may
at times think it does.
It is just a trick of the senses,
casting out its reel,
and latching on,
without knowing what
the surface holds.
Those years,
stacked up,
carry all the weight of changes;
some more subtle than others.
The memory of you
is a fine thing
solid as brick.
In my life,
moving forward
never seemed harder.
The bag upon my shoulder,
no longer has the heft
of accumulated stones.
My heart
is full,
Forever
now;
singing the years,
like a favorite
number.
Love as always~William~copyright 09/24/2009.
between
Katrina and now
we had
lost you.
The remnants still linger,
and time doesn't stand still;
even though, we may
at times think it does.
It is just a trick of the senses,
casting out its reel,
and latching on,
without knowing what
the surface holds.
Those years,
stacked up,
carry all the weight of changes;
some more subtle than others.
The memory of you
is a fine thing
solid as brick.
In my life,
moving forward
never seemed harder.
The bag upon my shoulder,
no longer has the heft
of accumulated stones.
My heart
is full,
Forever
now;
singing the years,
like a favorite
number.
Love as always~William~copyright 09/24/2009.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Wandering.
It's always best not to set your sights too high;
Feeding small animals, or a walk in the park, is enough
For one day.
You can smile,
While admitting
The years you've worked;
Capturing each patch
Of crab-grass in your hand,
Each moment reached, breached,
And, bridged by concentrated effort.
The world will not be still any longer. There aren't any silent moments
In the City; however, you can wander there
Even in the center of a crowd.
The best years are ahead of you.
Never be fearful of wandering.
Those many roads
Are forever calling.
All the best things come
While spinning your thoughts:
The wind shall hear my words...
...And the stars will speak them.
Let your solitary moments,
He said,
Shine.
`x~William ~copyright 09/08/09
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Creative Housework
I'm never
too quick
to clean.
I like my dust,
because it reminds me
that I'm still
living.
And, this...
...Well,
it makes me
happy.
`x~William ~ copyright: 08/28/2009.
too quick
to clean.
I like my dust,
because it reminds me
that I'm still
living.
And, this...
...Well,
it makes me
happy.
`x~William ~ copyright: 08/28/2009.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Youth Movement:
Of course,
you're different.
we all were,
back then,
when we
were your age.
Words were different;
and,
they carried more weight:
a bright bit of typewritten
words seemed solid, lasting
into a Summer's day,
when being solitary
brought rewards.
You're finding your voice,
reaching for stars.
We were waiting,
back then,
same as you;
something that breathed
independence--
loving and
different--
like you.
`x~William H. Balzac ~ copyright 08/17/2009.
you're different.
we all were,
back then,
when we
were your age.
Words were different;
and,
they carried more weight:
a bright bit of typewritten
words seemed solid, lasting
into a Summer's day,
when being solitary
brought rewards.
You're finding your voice,
reaching for stars.
We were waiting,
back then,
same as you;
something that breathed
independence--
loving and
different--
like you.
`x~William H. Balzac ~ copyright 08/17/2009.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Life [Notebook]
It steps in front of you,
saying, "What's the meaning of this?";
throwing down the gauntlet of its immensity.
Somewhere, a bird lifts itself from the branch,
hovering for just a minute.
Then,
like a tribute to progress,
swoops low over a fisherman,
reeling in a bass.
You must capture the moment
like this.
In life,
you'll find,
all of the fleetingness of numbers enacted in the shadings,
between dawn and dusk.
The eye follows the bird;
keeping faith
with the journey.
`x~William H. Balzac ~ copyright 08/14/2009.
saying, "What's the meaning of this?";
throwing down the gauntlet of its immensity.
Somewhere, a bird lifts itself from the branch,
hovering for just a minute.
Then,
like a tribute to progress,
swoops low over a fisherman,
reeling in a bass.
You must capture the moment
like this.
In life,
you'll find,
all of the fleetingness of numbers enacted in the shadings,
between dawn and dusk.
The eye follows the bird;
keeping faith
with the journey.
`x~William H. Balzac ~ copyright 08/14/2009.
Monday, August 10, 2009
To Do.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Journey [Notebook] :
Working your way outward
your words seem indistinct
of meanings
thrown together
like a mosaic of many colors.
Everything falls into place
eventually.
Time loves a consistent objective
and abhors dilly-dallying,
procrastination,
and small words.
Some people
"Speak softly,
and carry a big stick."
Others, more reserved,
by far,
bring to the table
the same-old patterns,
attached to faulty wiring;
a house,
of many voices,--electric
--soon to short-out.
As you move forward,
carefully question
the many points of departure.
Your Journey,
individual,
carries each word
abidingly
from the start.
`x~William ~copyright ~ 08/07/09
your words seem indistinct
of meanings
thrown together
like a mosaic of many colors.
Everything falls into place
eventually.
Time loves a consistent objective
and abhors dilly-dallying,
procrastination,
and small words.
Some people
"Speak softly,
and carry a big stick."
Others, more reserved,
by far,
bring to the table
the same-old patterns,
attached to faulty wiring;
a house,
of many voices,--electric
--soon to short-out.
As you move forward,
carefully question
the many points of departure.
Your Journey,
individual,
carries each word
abidingly
from the start.
`x~William ~copyright ~ 08/07/09
Monday, August 3, 2009
For the Notebook:
In hand, beneath your armpit,
the marble
and black binding
carries an unrecognized heft;
a school-boy's trial with English
skirting 'round
street-corners
like an unlikely teacher's pet.
These days,
I still write with an eraser-tipped pencil,
diligent notes;
the hand,
as quick as the eye,
and, the words
as precious as marble.
`x~William ~ copyright~08/03/09.
the marble
and black binding
carries an unrecognized heft;
a school-boy's trial with English
skirting 'round
street-corners
like an unlikely teacher's pet.
These days,
I still write with an eraser-tipped pencil,
diligent notes;
the hand,
as quick as the eye,
and, the words
as precious as marble.
`x~William ~ copyright~08/03/09.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Poem
Where do the words come from?
In stillness and quiet
Every simple thing
is set in stone
Never to be
taken away
The explication
and application
a wandering voice
Given freedom
a chance
to breathe
comfortably
upon the page
`x~William ~ copyright: 08/01/09.
In stillness and quiet
Every simple thing
is set in stone
Never to be
taken away
The explication
and application
a wandering voice
Given freedom
a chance
to breathe
comfortably
upon the page
`x~William ~ copyright: 08/01/09.
Friday, July 31, 2009
After [Notebook]:
It seemed simple, how you walked the earth, carrying his rib into your future. The Earthworks were small then; battlements, and barricades were invisible, without any thought to War. The pastures were your magic carpet, laid out, spread across miles and miles of green. In the heavens, the big guy looked down in wonder, re-making all the rules of Temptation a blue bit of Knowledge for the coming generations. The full-blown Sixties would see you free; love, in constant flux, was a cautionary tale, gathered by the wise and infirm. For one, shining moment, History became a tablet, always re-written.
A man and woman raise their heads from the pillow, and
Drink new wine. The love-birds, feather their nest.
Somewhere, in the after-Time, they are re-born;
Peaceful Night, for Clinging desire,
Some other fire
Stoked.
`x~William ~ 7/31/09
A man and woman raise their heads from the pillow, and
Drink new wine. The love-birds, feather their nest.
Somewhere, in the after-Time, they are re-born;
Peaceful Night, for Clinging desire,
Some other fire
Stoked.
`x~William ~ 7/31/09
Monday, July 20, 2009
Moon
Being tenants of this Earth
we gave praise to spaciousness,
while filling in the barrenness
with mud-huts and sticks.
The challenge and promise
to advance, gave sunlight new meaning:
Fields tilled; berries picked; and,
weather reports, occupied the farmer's thoughts
For stretching into Spring seemed an eye's-blink
of each great leap of an accounts book's
figures.
I often think of Armstrong's hand;
the way in which it had blocked-out the Earth.
Space,
no longer free of an individuals destiny,
seeks the smallness
of great things.
This is what the Sharecropper knew,
as those first steps were taken,
and, our deeds,
live on
in a Timeless, transcendent,
space.
`x~William H. Balzac ~ copyright~7/20/09.
we gave praise to spaciousness,
while filling in the barrenness
with mud-huts and sticks.
The challenge and promise
to advance, gave sunlight new meaning:
Fields tilled; berries picked; and,
weather reports, occupied the farmer's thoughts
For stretching into Spring seemed an eye's-blink
of each great leap of an accounts book's
figures.
I often think of Armstrong's hand;
the way in which it had blocked-out the Earth.
Space,
no longer free of an individuals destiny,
seeks the smallness
of great things.
This is what the Sharecropper knew,
as those first steps were taken,
and, our deeds,
live on
in a Timeless, transcendent,
space.
`x~William H. Balzac ~ copyright~7/20/09.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Where do you go?
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